Stronger
by promise.me.forever
Summary: What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.


**Author's Note: OMG. I can't believe I finished this today. Haha. But yeah. It's a oneshot I thought of… and I decided to get my lazy bum to write it. So here it is. Not really sure how it turned out, but I hope you enjoy it, because the situation sort of holds a special place in my heart. Oh, and props to Madi for picking out the lovely men's names you read in this story. At the end, please review! (:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with High School Musical. **

**---**

"_Wait, what?" _

Those were the words that Gabriella had spoken at precisely 11:15 that night. She had just gotten home from Troy's about a half hour ago, and was extremely tired. Upon reaching her home, she said a quick hello to her mom, tossed her keys on the key rack, and ran quickly upstairs to her room. Pushing the door open carelessly, she walked across her carpet and snatched her book off her night table before leaping onto her bed, beginning to read. She planned to have an easy going night; reading her choice of book until late, maybe even early morning.

How entirely wrong she was.

Approximately twenty minutes since her arrival, her mother quietly crept into her daughter's room. She silently made her way across the large bedroom, passing some of Gabriella's school spiral notebooks and papers scattered all over the carpet. Finally reaching her bed, she sat down softly on the white comforter.

Feeling her right side of the bed slope slightly because of the extra weight, Gabriella looked up from her book. When Gabriella noticed it was just her mother, she smiled brightly.

"Hey mom," she greeted, marking her page and closing the novel. "What's up?"

Mrs. Montez gave a quick smile before she looked away from her daughter. "Oh nothing," she answered. "What are you reading?"

Gabriella sighed and held up the novel for her mom to see. "_A Rose For Melinda_," she read off the cover. It was pink and small, and had a picture of Pointe shoes as well as a rose on top. "It's a tragedy. It's about this dancer who has amazing talent, but then gets diagnosed with leukemia when she's a teenager," she quickly summarized, going to open it and continue reading.

Staring at Gabriella, Mrs. Montez sent a confused look at her daughter. She had noticed she had always chose to read the angst and tragedy novels during her teenage years; a major change since her picture books and Dr. Suess when she was a mere child. "Why do you always read tragedies? Don't you ever read happy books?" she asked, leaning back on her elbow, facing her daughter with curiosity written on her features.

"I choose to read tragedies because they're more interesting," her daughter responded, not looking up from her book. "I mean, yeah… romances and friendships are great, but I just find tragedies more engaging to read about. How people cope with disaster and misfortune; it teaches you how every person in this world is different, and that every person will deal with a situation differently than another," she concluded, flipping a page and continuing to read.

Gulping, Mrs. Montez blinked away tears and looked away from Gabriella. Of course, engulfed in the novel's pages, Gabriella did not see this movement or detail from her mother. Wiping the small drop of water from under her eyes, Mrs. Montez turned briskly toward her daughter.

"Gabriella… I have to tell you something," she began, resting her hand on Gabriella's leg.

Hearing the desperation in her voice, Gabriella sprang up and lightly threw her book to her left. "Mom…" she said, moving to sit beside her on the bed, "are you okay?"

Mrs. Montez nodded quickly as she felt more tears prickle her eyes. Then, she shook her head slightly and reorganized her thoughts. "I have to tell you something."

Gabriella quirked a brow. "Mom, are you sure you're alright?" Gabriella asked, disregarding what her mother was really saying, and concentrated on rubbing her back and trying to comfort her.

"No!" Mrs. Montez yelled shoving her daughter's hand away from her back. "Stop asking about me, Gabriella! I have to tell you something important; something I've been keeping from you for more than I can take! Worry about yourself, please," she pleaded, a tear falling from her left eye.

Startled by her mother's sudden outburst, Gabriella retracted her hand and stared in shock. _Worry about yourself?_

What was that supposed to mean?

"Mom, what are you talking about?" she asked quietly, backing slowly away and pulling her knees to her chest.

Smearing another tear away from her cheek, Mrs. Montez faced her daughter. "Gabriella… I need you to promise me something."

Gabriella swallowed. What was her mother trying to say? A million different thoughts were going through her mind; she didn't know what to think. "Um, okay. What?" she asked, still puzzled, though a little afraid to know what her mother truly meant.

"I need you to promise me that you'll still love me. Even though I made a mistake," she said, coming close to her daughter again. Taking her hand, she spoke again. "You know if I could have changed it, I would have."

Getting slightly angry and frustrated, Gabriella took back her hand. "Mom, can you please just tell me what you're trying to say? You're scaring me," she replied, her heart beginning to pick up speed. She watched as her mother took a shaky breath, her chest rising and then falling. Finally, Mrs. Montez looked back up at her daughter.

"It's about your father…" she trailed off, her eyes beginning to fill up with tears again.

"What? What about him?" Gabriella inquired, sitting up immediately. "Is he okay?"

Mrs. Montez shook her head quickly. "No, no. He's fine. It's a different… aspect about him," she specified, hoping Gabriella would take little hints and eventually catch on.

"Oh okay," Gabriella said with sigh of relief. She sat back in her bed against her fluffy pillows, getting more comfortable. "I thought he was really sick or something," she added, now a small smile on her lips. "Don't ever do that to me, mom. You really scared me."

Biting her lip, Mrs. Montez took another breath. "Honey… I haven't exactly told you what I needed to," she said, turning on the bed to get a better view of her daughter.

Gabriella furrowed her brow. Then, she let out a quick sigh and put her book down again, having picked it up after she had relaxed. "Then what is it?"

"There's really no easy way to say this –"

"Mom, just tell me, please," Gabriella begged, her eyes pleading. "You've been stalling forever."

Mrs. Montez stared at her daughter for a long moment. She then nodded slightly, before looking down at the comforter of the bed. After a couple of seconds, she switched her gaze back up to Gabriella. How was she supposed to tell her daughter this? She didn't even know until a year ago, when she had received the test results and letter in the mail.

---

_November 13, 2006_

"_Gabriella! Come and set the table please," Mrs. Montez called, untying her purple apron before folding it and placing it on the kitchen counter. "We're eating in ten minutes!"_

_A muffled response of agreement came from the upstairs portion of the house. Smiling as she heard her daughter trudge down the stairs, Mrs. Montez reached for the mail that had been sitting on the kitchen table. She scanned through them quickly; bills and more bills, a pottery barn catalog… nothing out of the usual. However, it was the last letter that made her stop her movements and stare. It was a letter from Gabriella's father. This also wasn't out of the usual; Mr. Montez had often sent letters, notes and sometimes even packages to his only child. Although this time, the letter had been addressed to herself, Carolina Montez. It also had a scientific lab address in the left corner; this also sent up small red flags in Mrs. Montez's mind. _

_Tearing open the envelope hurriedly, she unfolded what seemed to be a bunch of papers. Mrs. Montez then quickly eyed her daughter pulling plates out of the cabinet, as well as grabbing some forks and knives before turning around and beginning to set the table. Gabriella flashed a quick smile towards her mother, her brilliant white teeth gleaming through her lips. Managing a small smile back, Mrs. Montez made her way out of her room and into the bathroom, where she had a little more privacy. _

_Mrs. Montez closed and locked the door behind her, before sitting on the toilet and unfolding the remainder of the papers. Her eyes scanned them quickly, mulling over the many words printed on the sheets of paper. Widening as big as oranges, she felt her hands begin to shake. The first paper was indeed from a scientific lab; though it was not what she had ever dreamed of seeing in her life. Not being able to take the information in so suddenly, she quickly shuffled through the rest of the papers before she got to the last one in the back; it was handwritten. Pulling it out with shaking hands, she began to read. _

_**Dear Carolina,**_

_**Yes, I'm afraid what you're reading is true. I know it is unimaginable and might be even unreal for you by the time you read this, but please know that these tests do not lie. Know also that I had not intended to do this behind your back, but the curiosity, Gabriella's questioning… it was too hard to defy. Please do not blame her for this, either; it was my decision and I had my other reasons for completing the test. **_

_**I'm so sorry for inflicting this on you so suddenly, but if Gabriella asked me once more why she has brown eyes, seeing as you or I do not, I think I might have exploded right then and there; which I know is something that no one could have benefited from. I too realized that I, also, did not have the answer to that question; I'm an only child and neither of my parents have brown eyes. I do understand that easily one of your sisters could have, or your parents; we never really took the time to get to know each other's family's personally. But I can say that ever since she began asking this question when she was six years old, something in me had an inking as to the real reason. **_

_**Gabriella does not know she was taking part in a DNA paternity test; I had told her it was a simple test to see what percentage she could inherit a disease from my side of the family (diabetes, high blood pressure… you understand). I received the results just days ago, with a small sense of knowledge all along. The feelings I felt when I realized what this test actually meant was indescribable; a feeling of sorrow that the beautiful young Gabriella Montez was indeed not my biological child. **_

_**Speaking of, I think you have a sense (or I would hope) as to who her biological father actually is. This is information I do not need to receive, but I do hope that it is someone you have kept in touch with, or the very least an old friend who you have never feuded with in recent years. A deep sense of optimism is sent to you from me, and I hope Gabriella will not be too torn over the news.**_

_**Also, seeing as I am not her biological father, I feel it is necessary for her to know this information. I do not believe it is right for her to not know; I do not like keeping secrets and it isn't fair in the least. Please know that if you do not tell her, I will be forced to tell her on my own the next time we meet. I figured that you, as the mother, would like to break the news; it would only be right. Please do not make this harder than it already is, I know everyone will have a hard time adjusting. This is also crucial as to why you should let her know – we can all get through this, maybe even as a family. To me, biology only means blood and genes; I will always see Gabriella as my daughter. **_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Joseph Montez**_

_Lifting her eyes from the paper, Mrs. Montez began to cry silently. How had this happened? She and Joseph had gotten along so well… until they began fighting over little things that ended up not mattering in the end. She remembered one night he had gotten her so angry; she fled to her friend's house. Realizing her mistake, Mrs. Montez looked up._

_She had gone to her friend's house._

_Mark Johansen's house._

_He had been her best friend through college; always there for her when she needed him. After the fight with Joseph, she fled to his house, back into his comforting arms that always seemed to soothe her when she was upset. She remembered as he rubbed her back when she repeated their fight back to him, his thumb wiping away her tears… his calm voice that had calmed her down. _

_She also remembered that things had gone too far that night._

_He had been so comforting and supportive of her; she had forgotten all her problems when she was with him that night. She had also been drinking glasses of wine at his house – one thing had eventually led to another and they had ended up sleeping together. The next morning, they had both sworn up and down that the events hadn't happened, and that they would be fine. Mark had also used a condom; they would surely be safe. _

_Now, seventeen years later, she was proved wrong. _

_After the night with Mark, she flew home to Joseph, before marrying him a year later; only to be divorced five later. She had eventually lost touch with Mark; something she always regretted. Now, however, she regretted it even more._

_Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Montez wiped a few tears from her cheeks. She then read over the papers a few times, before finally believing what she had feared – was actually true. _

_But just exactly how was she going to tell Gabriella?_

---

"Gabriella…" she began, looking her daughter straight in the eye. _Just do it, _her mind told her urgently. Mrs. Montez took another small, quick breath before continuing. "Your father… really isn't your father," she said, still staring into Gabriella's eyes.

For a slight moment, Gabriella thought she had heard wrong. She blinked quickly, and shook her head faintly. _"Wait, what?"_

"Joseph Montez isn't your biological father," she repeated, her voice still shaky. She watched as Gabriella's face stayed indifferent; she could not tell the emotions she was feeling. Continuing to stare, Mrs. Montez's heart began to race. She didn't know what her daughter was feeling, and that truly scared her. Was she mad? Upset? Broken inside? She didn't know what to think. "Please say something," she pleaded, reaching out to her daughter.

Gabriella blinked. "How long have you known?" she asked.

"About a year."

Quirking a brow, Gabriella felt anger and betrayal rise inside of her. "And you didn't care to tell me?"

Mrs. Montez shook her head. "Sweetie, it's very complicated. I would have told you sooner, but your father –"

Gabriella cut her off. "If he's not my father…" she trailed off, the news starting to sink in, "then who is, exactly?"

Mrs. Montez looked down. "That's not important right now," she began. "What's important is -"

"What do you mean, 'it's not important?'" Gabriella snapped, her voice suddenly weak and her eyes flooding with tiny tears. "You come in here at eleven o'clock at night, tell me who I thought my father is really isn't, and you're telling me who the real person is, isn't _important?"_ she asked, her voice incredulous.

Her chest heaving as she took another breath of air, Mrs. Montez attempted to reach out to her daughter again. "Honey, before we get into details and particulars, I need to know how you're feeling," she explained, now reaching out to her face.

"How am I feeling? Oh gee mom, I don't know. Why don't you try having your mother come in randomly one night and telling you a man you basically grew up with isn't your father at all," she said, tears now falling down her cheeks. "I want to know who he is."

Realizing she would have to tell Gabriella sooner or later, she gave in. If this is the only way she would get through to her, then so be it. "His name is Mark Johansen. He was a good friend of mine."

Gabriella swallowed hard. She then nodded curtly, before sniffling and wiping her face clean of tears. Switching her gaze to her mother, she stared into her eyes. "Did you love him?" she asked.

"Yes." Mrs. Montez replied right away, shaking her head. "He was my best friend… he was there for me after I got into a fight with your fath – Joseph. It wasn't supposed to happen," she replied, "but if you're the result, I'm glad it did."

Continuing to nod, Gabriella snuffled again. "I see."

Getting a feeling her daughter wasn't completely okay, she crept closer. "Honey, please forgive me. If I knew he was the father… please know things would have turned out a completely different way. But does blood really matter? Joseph loves you, and he always will," she stated, placing a strand of Gabriella's hair behind her ear.

"I know, it shouldn't, mom," her daughter answered quietly. She swabbed away another tear with the back of her hand, before turning to ask another question. "Does he know who I am?"

Mrs. Montez hesitated. She hadn't contacted him; she didn't know what to say to him. '_Hello Mark, even though I haven't talked or seen you in seventeen years, just wanted to let you know you have a daughter; her name is Gabriella.' _But she had to be honest with her only daughter. It was only fair. "He knows you exist," Mrs. Montez answered.

"But he just doesn't know I'm his," Gabriella finished, staring at her mother with glassy eyes.

"Right."

Feeling her eyes prickle with more tears, Gabriella tried her best to hold them back. Opening her mouth to breathe (her nose was all stuffy and preventing her from doing so) she gulped. She honestly felt like she was in one of her tragic novels; as if she was a mere character dealing with a situation that wasn't imaginable. Snapping her out of her thoughts, her mother spoke once more.

"Do you forgive me?" she asked quietly, looking at her daughter.

Looking up at her mother, Gabriella let out a tiny hint of a smile. After all, her mother was only human. Everyone makes mistakes. How could she not? "Yes," she started. "It wasn't your fault, mom. Things happen," she concluded, playing with the small tassels on her blanket. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she felt her body adjust and calm down. "It may take me awhile to get used to this new fact, but I think I'll be okay."

Mrs. Montez felt a sensation of relief as she heard Gabriella say those words. A grin on her face, Mrs. Montez reached out and embraced her daughter into a hug. They stayed meshed together for a long while; both having a bunch of thoughts tumbling inside their heads. Mrs. Montez was glad it was finally all over; she had told her daughter and she had accepted it. She hadn't banned her from her life, she hadn't disowned herself like she knew other teenagers might have – she learned that what her daughter said was indeed true; each person reacts differently to each situation they are given. She then kissed the top of Gabriella's head, when she heard her daughter speak again.

"Can I meet him sometime?" she asked feebly, her voice very low.

Not expecting the question, she stopped rocking her daughter and pulled out of the embrace. She then searched her daughter's eyes; Gabriella had a small sense of hope in her facial features, as well as desire. She couldn't say no; at the very least she could try.

Smiling, Mrs. Montez kissed Gabriella's forehead. "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, just… take it easy, okay?" she reasoned, holding her daughter at shoulder length. "And I promise I'll make it up to you for not telling until now."

Gabriella took a breath and nodded. She then bit her lip, before reaching to pick up her book again. She then flipped to her the page where she left off, and gave one last look to her mother. Thinking their conversation over, Gabriella wiped away the last of her tears and sent her mother a small smile.

"How about you make some of your delicious macaroni and cheese? I'm starving," she said, putting a hand on her stomach. "You can start making it up to me there."

Mrs. Montez grinned and got up from the bed. "Of course," she replied, beginning to walk out the door. "Extra cheese?" she inquired, looking behind her.

"Please," Gabriella answered, nodding her head.

"Okay," she replied. "It should be done soon. I'll bring it up when I'm finished."

Gabriella smiled as she watched her mother walk out the door. When she saw that her mother had gone down stairs, she took a deep breath. Yes, the information she had received tonight was huge – and crucial, in a way, and even had her curious about some things. Nevertheless, it was only going to help her in the end – after all, what didn't kill you, only made you stronger.


End file.
